


i can finally see that you're right there beside me

by machibouke



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Friendship - Freeform, M/M, Sobu Line, Stress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:55:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/machibouke/pseuds/machibouke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nino being unusually thoughtful towards Aiba during an undisclosed hardship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i can finally see that you're right there beside me

**Author's Note:**

> not sure what this is - i just love aiba and nino's friendship (doesn't _everyone_?!) and this is a short way of showing my love. on the outside, their relationship looks like a whole lot of taking and not much giving but...i really take to notion of them caring about each other in private. :')
> 
> title taken from the lyrics of owl city's "meteor shower".

All he can think in that moment is, no, he is not the kind of person to have spontaneous panic attacks because the world is suddenly spinning for no reason at all. He does not normally want to drop to the floor because his knees, his legs, his body, his whole mind just cannot take it anymore. The stress that is abruptly making itself unpleasantly known and doesn’t seem to want to go away, the unrealistic demands made of him, the high expectations that just seem to sink lower once people realize his true character – it’s been a lot to take on as the years have gone by. It’s hard to believe it’s only been ten years, ten years of getting used to the whole country going crazy over him just at the sight of his figure. But this panicky, set-to-implode person he’s been shoving down over the years is just surfacing right now – but it isn’t _him_.

Aiba Masaki loves work, gets off on being a self-proclaimed workaholic and driving people up the wall for the fun of it. He loves the attention of audiences and especially loves giving everyone a good laugh in the name of comedy, even if he has to make a complete idiot of himself in the process. He has never been the type to slow down when things suddenly got too hard. Wouldn’t that be self-contradicting? Wouldn’t that be letting everyone down?

But sometimes – and he kept this strictly to himself – sometimes he felt just like a pressure-cooker. Hot, always boiling, and never being allowed to cool down and take a break because so many people rely on you to function right, provide laughs and get the job done. Well, now...

Someone is calling his name, he belatedly realizes. When his vision refocuses, Nino comes into it, waving one hand. He’s tapping Aiba on the arm with the other, an unusual expression of combined wariness and concern on his face.

Aiba clutches at the railing next to his arm and registers the rapid and loud zoom of the subway beneath their feet. People whooshing past them in the crowds are starting to give them looks, and Aiba knows well that Nino hates unwanted attention. He pulls himself up.

“I’m fine!” he assures, smiling toothily just as Nino would expect him to. His head is going way too fast for his eyes again, sending his view of the world and Nino into overlapping circles and weird bursts of brightness. It’s not a fantastic feeling, and Nino can obviously tell that much too, what with his incredulous looks and nasal tutting. Along with this sensation, Aiba questions the last time he had a proper meal and comes up with nothing.

“Sure. But you look like shit, and I mean that in every sense of the word,” Nino tells him frankly. They’re at the train station and about to use the usual shared line to get to work. Life is going to be busy as always today, just like any other day (Aiba is all of a sudden terrified at the prospect of “just another day of work”) and they have a jam-packed schedule that starts with a PR on the other side of town.

Nino apparently has other ideas, though. He senses Aiba’s unease.

“Do you want to go somewhere? Just the two of us?”

After finishing off his glare for the looking like shit comment, Aiba stares, as if Nino has just sprouted an extra arm from the back of his head. He laughs wheezily.

“Are you crazy? We have to—”

Nino sighs and holds his hand up squarely over Aiba’s mouth. “Yes, yes, I know what we have to do, I’m very much updated on our damn schedule,” he snaps tiredly, touching Aiba’s shoulders to firmly turn him around. He starts pushing them towards a train barrier labelled with some prefecture that they’ve bot probably never heard of, somewhere on the outskirts of Tokyo in the countryside where the air is undoubtedly fresh and in never ending supply. Aiba knows Nino’s intentions, and hates that they have a history. Nino knows what he likes most, and knows what he can and can’t refuse.

“For God’s sake, Masaki. I’ll call ahead and tell them you’re sick. Missing one schedule won’t kill us. I’ve done it heaps of times before with Leader.”

And, Nino conveniently forgot to mention, they got told off for it on a recurring basis until Ohno had the brains to reject Nino’s crazy ideas and stop arriving so late in the mornings. It’s insanely tempting, but Aiba drags his sneakers into the ground and halts the two of them with nervous laughter. He ignores the urge to interrogate Nino with a violent barrage of questions – _Why do you suddenly want to spend time with me right now? We’ve been working with each other for the better part of a decade now and you only voluntarily want to spend time together now? What’s changed?_

“It probably won’t,” he instead agrees half-heartedly, “but we have a manager that will kill us if we don’t show up. Plus, Sho-chan will lecture us on the importance of arriving on time for schedules and how it never hurts to come five minutes early in case of impromptu changes…you know how he used to lecture Leader…”

Somewhere inside of himself, he knows that this is Nino’s solution to every problem that pops up in life: to run away without much thought input, without any consideration for the more-than-likely consequences, and to deal with the downfalls later on. But it is not Aiba’s. Still, he appreciates the gesture. Despite the two of them rubbing each other the wrong way half the time (it makes for good TV), they understand parts of each other that the others don’t always seem to pick up on. Things that are reminiscent of their teenage years, when embarrassing parts of themselves came out just naturally without going through the filter. Whether he likes it or not, Nino has always been able to sense Aiba’s sensitive, more temperamental side – the side that just can’t do regimental routines some days and requires a break right now.

That, and it’s incredibly rare for Nino to be so openly considerate to him. It’s more than rare – it’s unheard of. It’s a first.

“I’m fine. Really. Thanks anyway, Nino,” he says with a lopsided grin, regaining control of their direction. He grabs Nino by the elbow and turns him around this time, semi-aware that Nino is muttering something along the lines of, “Sobu Line friends—yeah, right. Next time someone calls us that, I am legitimately going to kick them where it hurts.”

Aiba herds them in the opposite direction with a wider smile and slides his hand down the length of Nino’s arm to hold his hand in a show of gratitude. Nino almost immediately shakes it off – “people can _see_ , you moron” – but Aiba re-establishes the connection and holds on even tigher through Nino’s small string of groans.

“Let’s go!”


End file.
